


furlough

by gallifreycallsnow



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bella becomes a vampire soldier, Character Death, F/M, Maria is manipulative, Minor Character Death, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Vampire war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 09:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11734596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreycallsnow/pseuds/gallifreycallsnow
Summary: Maria has been vying for control of the south for centuries. This time, she will learn from her mistakes and ensure that her right hand is not distracted by petty things like friendship.Isabella Swan is the first of many newborns to be turned by Maria in her quest to reign over the South.This is a story of self-acceptance and growth. This is Bella, at her best and at her worst.





	furlough

**Author's Note:**

> I don't like Twilight very much, but it's one of the few fandoms that has potential. I wrote this on my phone in a few days because I am bored and I've not seen something like this around. There might be some capitalization issues, but nothing much. I hope you enjoy!

The pain was nonsensical, and like nothing i'd ever felt before. I could feel my muscles jerking out of control; my jaw was open and my throat ached with the hellish screams that I could almost not believe were mine. Fire licked at my body; my blood turned into magma and my heart was beating out of my body. 

I don't know how long it's been, or why I was in so much pain. I could barely think. At one point, I felt cold hands touch me, but they did nothing to remedy my situation. They lifted me up, which only served to make the pain worse. I keened; a chuckle, barely heard over the roaring in my ears. 

I was laid down somewhere. My back arched off the surface as my screams started anew. The same hand brushed my hair out of my forehead. 

"Worry not, mijita. Your life is just beginning." 

-

Once the pain had dulled and my heart stopped beating, I opened my eyes to a whole new world. 

Maria smiled at me, looking like both heaven and hell at the same time. She told me, "You will be magnificent, chiquita. But first, you must feed."

I didn't know what she meant by it, until she took my hand and led me to a back alley in Phoenix, by a bar. She took her finger and signaled me to be quiet. She stepped inside and I made to follow, but a warning glare from her had me sitting still, something like instinct shouting at me not to cross this deadly woman. 

It was a matter of minutes until she returned, leading a young man by his hand. He only had eyes for her, but she looked at me in a way that told me that he was for me. She didn't have to tell me twice. The instant I heard his strong heartbeat and his blood rushing through his veins, I growled loudly and launched myself at the unexpecting boy. I heard his ribs crack under the pressure of my hold, his low whine as I drained him of what made him alive. He tried to escape, but my nails scratched into his skin so painfully that he fell into my hold, head coming to rest almost intimately in the crook of my neck as I drained him dry. 

"Good job, mijita."

That was the night that Maria became my guiding light. 

-

Maria occasionally asked me about my past. I didn't understand her interest. I could barely remember any of it myself - save for the basics, that I used to have a mother and father and that I worked for a living, I didn't know much else and didn't truly care to find out, either. Why struggle to remember being human when, at the end of the day, I was as far away from it as I could be?

Maria always seemed satisfied with this answer, and I lived to make her happy. It was just the two of us, after all - I was her only daughter and she was deserving of my utmost devotion. She would always take my hand and help me choose my target. She taught me how to hunt and how to fight. I don't think I was religious as a human, but as a vampire, Maria was my god. 

-

She came home one night, carrying a boy a couple years younger than me. "Isabella," she ordered, brusquely, "take him upstairs." She handed me his soft, pliable body. My throat burned at his scent, and Maria fixed me with a deadly look. 

"He is not for you, mijita," she chastised, her soft words at odds with the fire in her gaze.

"Yes," I agreed, and hauled him upstairs. Maria's word was law. There was no option for me to do otherwise. It was simply impossible. 

She told me that she wanted to create a family for us. "I am tired of being alone," she simpered as I came downstairs, the boy's blood staining my shirt. "I seek to make a big family for us. Will you help me, Isabella?" 

I don't know what came over me in that moment. I took three long steps until I was in front of her. I grabbed her hands between mine and knelt down on one knee. I pressed my forehead against her knuckles and whispered, "Anything, mother."

In my submissive pose, I never saw the glint of satisfaction in her eyes. 

-

Maria instructed me to wait downstairs as Riley woke up from his transformation. I did, standing still by the darkened windows and waited for my next directive. There was a loud crash, a snarl - Riley's - and Maria's resulting growl; before I knew it, I ran upstairs, my instincts to protect Maria stronger than my mind which shouted at me to not disobey her orders. 

Riley was crouching in the corner of the room when I burst in, holding a scrap of cloth between his teeth. Maria's red dress was ripped to shreds, and although she seemed unconcerned, I hissed at Riley and launched myself at him. 

"Isabella, stop."

Maria's words forced me to freeze, but Riley was already reacting to my attack. His body's trajectory would have made his teeth collide with my throat, and instinctively i snarled. Several things happened. 

First, it felt as if a rubber band had exploded outwards from me, and I was the only one holding it taut. Second, Riley crashed into an invisible wall and ricocheted back into the corner, cracking the wall. Third, Maria was looking at me with a strange expression on her face, which morphed into a combination of glee, smugness, and anticipation. 

Riley was still crumpled on the floor when Maria approached me. She did so carefully, hand outstretched so that she would not encounter the same resistance Riley did. 

"Mijita," she whispered, her hand coming to caress my cheek. "I knew you would be magnificent."

-

Once we had found out about my power, Maria was relentless in ensuring that I had the utmost control over it. She used Riley as a lab rat, knowing that he had little control over his emotions as a newborn, and goaded him into attacking her. This training was torture - extending my shield took effort and energy I didn't know I could still lose, and Maria didn't seem to care that my still heart would twist in terror whenever Riley got too close to her. 

Eventually, a year had passed since Riley's turning, and with age came control. Riley began refusing to comply with Maria's demands. Maria pulled me aside one evening and caressed my cheek. 

"Mijita," she whispered, "your brother is breaking my heart. I think it would be best if he were put down, don't you think?"

"Mother," I said, closing my eyes to concentrate on the feel of her fingertips dragging down my cheek, "tell me what you need me to do."

Maria smiled and my chest filled with joy at the sight. Later that evening, I waited for Riley, hidden behind a door, and grabbed him by the neck once he passed by me, completely unaware. He struggled against my grasp, growling and snapping at me, darkened red eyes furious. I extended my shield, immobilized him, and ripped him apart. A fire was waiting for me, courtesy of Maria, and I threw Riley's limbs one by one. His head went last, and the crackling of the fire did nothing to hide his anguished screams. 

Maria approached me. "I am proud of you, Isabella. But now it is time to expand our family once more, and I believe it is time for you to help me in my quest."

I looked at her, at the long dark hair falling past her shoulders, her small but imposing stature, her red eyes which hid impressive wit and cleverness - and I nodded, falling to my knees before her. 

-

Maria and I ventured into the city at night, and I asked her who she was looking for. She said that she didn't have anyone specific in mind, and that I should judge for myself who would be a valuable addition to our little family. She bid me goodbye as she leapt to the east in search for my new brothers and sisters; and I went the other way, scanning the streets for any viable victims. That night was the night I sired my first newborn. 

-

Our numbers were growing, and fast. Maria was pleased. She had me keep our new family under control until they were ready - my shield was getting more and more use every day and with practice came the ease of use.

Once the man I had successfully turned became more aware and controlled, Maria ordered him to keep an eye on the rest of the newborns as she whisked me away for training. 

"I would usually first teach you how to defend yourself," Maria told me, "as it's the most difficult aspect of battle. We are instinctively offensive creatures, mijita, and staying on the defensive can prove challenging even for the most experienced. You, however, are a shield," at that, she smiled, and I felt pride fill my body, "which means that we can go straight to the fun part: the offensive."

She taught me a variety of things, first and foremost how to fight a newborn. "You will need this skill to be able to control your brothers and sisters," she said.

"Why should I just not use my shield?" I asked, and a flicker of annoyance passed on her features before she smoothed out her face into an expression of patience. 

"Because, Isabella, your shield is your trump card. It is the skill which you will hide until there are no other options. No one must know of it, do you understand?"

I nodded, and she grinned predatorily. "Very well. Remember, you are not allowed to shield yourself. Now," she said, dropping into a defensive stance, "attack."

-

Training was brutal and painful. Maria held nothing back. I would attack her and she would twist gracefully out of my way before biting my arms, or my neck, or my legs. As I howled in pain at each of those venom-filled bites, she would speak. 

"Remember this. You fight like a newborn. Learn from your mistakes and use my teachings against others."

So I did. When Maria judged me to be ready, she pit me against two of my newly turned brothers. The snarling newborns looked at each other and came to an instinctive agreement to band together against me, the more dangerous one. They leapt at me and I tried emulating Maria's graceful dodges, and I was successful, to an extent. Although I won the fight and had them immobilized on the ground with their limbs scattered around them, I was not untouched. Their teeth, sharp as knives, left marks on my body, alongside those belonging to Maria's. I was upset. Maria was the only one allowed to mark me so. 

"You did well," she crooned at me that morning. "These marks will turn you into something to be feared. Our kind knows that when another holds these war wounds they are not to be trifled with."

I eyed Maria's arms as well. They were usually fully covered, but today I spied a crescent shaped mark on her wrist. I grabbed her wrist and brought it closer to me. "Who did this to you?"

Maria's smile was tight as she pulled her hand out of my hold. "A man who broke my heart."

"I will kill him," I vowed. 

She laughed. "You will die trying, mijita. But if you truly want to avenge me, then we should start preparing you, yes?"

-

Months passed in a flurry of training and policing my new siblings. Some were easier to deal with than others - some accepted Maria's supremacy, while others doubted it. Maria was swift in her retribution, and she would usually have me dispatch of the nuisances. I got good at it. Good enough that my siblings would shy away from me as I passed them, good enough that I would hear them whisper behind my back. 

They were creative with their names for my. Many would just call me a bitch, namely Maria's - I did not take offense at that. Maria was my mother and her words were law. One of my older siblings had learned my middle name - Marie - and I was soon referred to as the Bloody Mary. 

It did not matter to me. I was doing my job, and as long as they would do theirs then there would be no problems. 

-

Maria pulled me aside one evening. She told me how proud she was of me, how much it meant to her to finally have a daughter. I knelt before her platitudes and I felt my reverence for her grow. We hunted together that night. She chose the victims - a young couple, sickeningly in love - and she let me choose which one I wanted. I growled at the man and Maria smiled, grabbing the woman and draining her without fanfare. I took my time with him, relishing in the taste of his blood and in this moment I shared with Maria. My mother. 

Before we returned, she spoke to me about her plans. She told me of her desire to be the sole leader of the South, and of the pesky covens which would refuse to submit to her rule. She told me - and I felt foolish not realizing it before - that my training all boiled down to this. War was coming, and this was what I had unknowingly been preparing for. A vestigial part of me cried out against the atrocities Maria would have me commit, but my love for my mother was too great to disappoint her. 

It was a stormy summer night when Maria led us forward to an unsuspecting group of vampires. With the element of surprise on our side, we quickly won the battle. Only a few of my older siblings were killed, and Maria explained to me that she had waited too long and that the newborns had lost their edge. I asked her why I didn't. 

"Isabella, you are my first daughter," she murmured, "and I would be foolish to not teach you how to protect yourself." With those carefully chosen words, both I and my siblings understood that while Maria was our uncontested leader, I was her right hand. Things changed after that. With the knowledge of my position in the coven, my siblings became reverent to me, less so than to Maria but enough that I knew that my word, too, was law. 

Having established my authority, Maria began slinking back into the shadows, less at the forefront of the war. She didn't want to deal with the newborns, and I thought it natural. They were soldiers. Cannon fodder. Maria was important. Simply the fact that she had been among them for so long was respectable. I was her intermediary, her favorite. 

I stepped into my new position with ease. Maria had stopped treating my as her child and had begun treating my like her trusted soldier. I ached for her affections to return, so I fought with a brutality that even my predatory self was surprised by. 

If the war ends, I reasoned to myself, then Maria will show her love for me once again. There is no time for affection during war. 

With this knowledge, I locked my affections for Maria and any of the leftover emotions from my human days deep within my mind, and my shield aided me. It took little effort to do - the vast capabilities of my brain easily locked them away, and I became someone else. 

A fighter, yes. Brutal, yes. But first and foremost, I became a machine to be used by Maria, and I couldn't find the strength in me to protest. 

-

My skin became a canvas of scars. In our quest for domination we had run across a vast number of older vampires who were older and far more experienced than any in our army. As per Maria's orders, I did not use my shield. Only use it when you know you will die otherwise. As such, my fighting skills sharpened to a fine point. Before, I had to think about my moves. Now, I was back at an instinctive point, except now, without the bloodlust of a newborn, my instincts were sharp, and deadly. 

Do not let anyone escape. The most important rule. If they escape, we lose the element of surprise. We'd made progress within months and had moved eastward, massacring anyone and everyone in our way. Our army numbers fluctuated. Newborns were unpredictable, and Maria either had me kill the ones who were a risk, or they were ended in battle. It didn't truly matter. It only took three days to create new ones, and with my bloodlust under control I often went out for recruitment purposes. 

Maria explained that normally she wouldn't risk creating more than two or three newborns at once, but thanks to my gift the risks posed by them were largely annulled. I felt a lick of pride at the knowledge that I was her most useful soldier. 

-

I trusted my newborns to take care of the problems. Mistake. Before I knew it, the female vampire they had encircled had made swift work of them, her blood red eyes focused. Before I could stop her, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. I finished one of the others and threw him into the fire, and faced the direction she ran in. She was faster than me - there was no point pursuing. I felt a bitter taste in my mouth as I realized I had failed in one of the tasks Maria had given me. The element of surprise was lost. 

Maria was angry, but not at me, which was surprising. I stood before her, ramrod straight and regarded the furious woman. She turned to me and said, "The war starts now, Isabella. Your lack of care has doomed us to an all out war," she turned around and considered the newborns in our camp. "We need more soldiers. It will only get more difficult - now, they will be expecting us, and the fight will only get worse. Do you understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am," I spoke unblinkingly. She turned back to me and looked at me carefully. 

"You remind me of someone," she mused to herself, and in a rare unguarded moment she stroked at her wrist, where I knew lay the mark of the man who had broken her heart. I stiffened and my lips pursed. She ignored me, and turned back around. 

"We cannot waste time with the newborns who will not listen to orders," Maria said. "Isabella, you will control them. If they will not do as they are told, kill them. When they lose their edge, kill them. If they are not efficient fighters, kill them. Am I understood?"

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

-

As always, Maria was right. I had a moment to wonder why she seemed so well versed in the art of vampire wars, before my mind snapped into focus and I held up a hand, signaling to the snarling newborns by my side not to move. Before us were seven vampires, and I could tell by their unafraid postures that they would fight until they won. A toothy smile crossed my mouth. A man on the opposite side shifted nervously. The weak link, good. 

"Leave, while you still have a chance," said the leader of the coven. 

We had the advantage. Fifteen newborns, plus me, against a coven of seven. My eyes analyzed them carefully. No, not a coven of seven. A coven of four, another coven of two, and the escapee from our previous battle. 

I smiled at him. "I could say the same for you," I replied softly. My newborns snarled. My hand slowly began dropping from the air, and once it reached my hip, my newborns shot forward. The battle began. 

-

We had many losses. I would need to recruit more tonight. Twelve newborns were dead, but we had won the battle. We kept pushing forward. 

-

Maria called me to her that morning, and pushed a package into my hands. "A gift," she said, "for my best soldier. Something befitting your rank."

My fingers broke open the package and I pulled out an old looking jacket. It smelled faintly of blood and dust, but more importantly, of the scent of a foreign vampire. I raised my eyes and looked at Maria questioningly. 

"This belonged to the first vampire I sired," Maria confessed, looking wistful for a brief moment. "He was a soldier during the Civil War and he became one of my best. Much like you, Isabella."

My eyes drifted down to where her scar lay, on her wrist. She smiled wryly, and said, "Yes. He gave me this mark when he... rebelled. Take this as a gift, Isabella, but also as a warning. I would like you to put it on."

The jacket was grey and thick, and its lapels were a mustard yellow. It was too big for me, so I rolled up the sleeves to my elbow and stood in front of Maria for judgment. She nodded, told me to return to my duties, and said nothing else even as I felt her eyes boring into my back. 

-

One of the newborns from the latest batch showed incredible promise. The war had escalated and nearby covens had taken the old adage to heart - fight fire with fire, so they too began turning newborns. Skills were treasured. David was only sixteen, but he had taken to vampirism like a fish to water. He shadowed me, quickly becoming my second in command. His gift was precious - his ability to immobilize with touch was very useful in battle, and we won every battle we fought. 

Maria disliked him. When I told her of his gift, she gave me a look that seemed to dig deep into my core, and said, "You are attached to him."

I nodded. There was no point in lying - I liked the boy and his outlook on life. Despite the bloodshed going on around him, once he had learned to control his impulses, he was a witty and charming boy. 

Maria looked thoughtful. "Are you mated with him?" she asked, coming closer to me. I frowned. 

"Mated?" I asked. 

Maria nodded. "In our world, there is one for each of us. A soul who is shaped to perfectly complement ours. Is he yours?"

"I... don't think so."

Maria looked pleased. "Good. Because I want you to kill him."

Her words struck me, and I fell perfectly still. Her dark eyes looked straight into mine, unwavering. "Those are my orders. Will you disobey?"

I started to shake my head, and said, "I'm afraid I do not understand. He is an asset. With a power like this... at least let him live through his first year. Without him, we would have had more casualties and the battles would have been significantly more difficult. Having him is a tactical advantage."

Maria frowned at me and gave me a once over. "The jacket suits you." She turned and began pacing. I was not dismissed, so I stayed put. It took a few minutes for her to continue. "Tell me," she began silkily, "why is it the you've never once disobeyed me in the six years we've been together? What is it about him?"

Six years. The number rang through my mind. I hadn't been aware it had been so long. "In six years I have not disobeyed. I have no intention of starting now." I held her gaze. "I simply believe this decision to be rash, especially since I do not understand your motives."

"I did not create you because I wanted someone to understand," Maria said with an almost sneer. "This is not your duty, Isabella. I do not want you to understand, I want you to act and do as you are told!"

I faced her onslaught with a blank look on my face. When she was done, I gave her a stiff nod and said, "Very well. My apologies. I will take care of David."

With a dismissive wave of her hand, she turned around and said, "See that you do."

-

David was by my side the minute I left Maria, and I told him to be quiet. Together, we made our way out of the camp. I could feel his curiosity but he listened to my orders and kept his mouth shut until we were far away from any eavesdroppers. 

"David," I murmured, "you must run. If you do not, I will be forced to end your life."

David staggered backwards as if struck. "What? Why?"

"Maria wants you dead," I snarled at him. "It is already foolish of me to do this. Run. Now. Make sure you never return."

David stood still for a few precious seconds. He turned around to leave, throwing me a meaningful look, before leaping for the trees. 

I registered what was going to happen less than a second before it did. Maria leapt down to intercept him and collided with David. He snarled and tried to use his gift on her, but Maria was prepared. She hadn't left an inch of skin uncovered, and her superior fighting skills were no match against David's instinctual newborn violence. 

I didn't dare interfere. It was over quickly, and Maria stood over the fire burning David's remains. It cast dancing shadows across her face, and the dying sound of David's screams was the only thing between us. 

I felt something I hadn't felt since my human days. Pure, unadulterated contempt. I kept my face perfectly smooth. Maria looked at me darkly, and said, "Next time, you'll be the one in the fire."

After a few seconds of silence which stretched like eternity between us, I rasped, "There won't be a next time."

-

She had lost faith in me, that much was certain. She had even gone as far as to demote me - of course, she hadn't mentioned it, but everyone including me could tell that she was pushing me farther and farther away from her side, enough that the newborns started chomping at the bit to replace me. 

How plebeian. 

Still, they didn't dare approach me. Whereas they would often rip each other to pieces over the most minor disagreements, they could still look at me and have their instincts screaming at them to get away as fast as possible. I didn't make an effort to become part of the team. I was quiet and efficient at my job, a part of me still yearning to return to Maria's side. It would never happen, I knew it deep in my bones. I had broken Maria's trust - it would be impossible to get it back. 

She knew that, too. She also knew that I knew, and with this awareness came her cautious handling of me. She would give me her orders through expendable newborns, just in case I decided to quit and murder them all. Admittedly, the thought had crossed my mind. 

In the quiet moments in between battle and the dispatching of useless newborns, I began pondering the original owner of my jacket. Maria's warning of him led me to believe that he was still alive and still very much deadly. Who was he, I wondered? Why did he leave Maria? Did he too grow disillusioned with her? Or did she tire of him? 

I didn't know. It was all speculation, and I doubted I would ever get my answers. Vampires were for the most part solitary creatures. There were, of course, clusters here and there - usually covens of mated vampires - but it was fairly rare. If I left Maria, I knew for certain that I would be very liable to spend eternity alone. That very thought chilled my to my bones. 

I did my duty. 

-

It was the eve of my seventh year as a vampire when gossip began to reach me. Creatures of the night we may be, but vampires gossip just as much as humans. It just so happened that I overheard information extremely pertinent to my situation. 

Maria was planning to get rid of me. Ignoring the stab of betrayal in my heart, I froze and listened carefully for any details - it was to happen tomorrow, on my seventh anniversary of being a vampire. How poetic. She'd recruited the newborns she thought would be best suited against be, and I curled my lip in disgust. 

So the woman I had so shamefully called mother wanted me dead. The vestigial, human part of me wailed. My true mother, the one of flesh and blood, who I didn't even remember the name nor the face of, would have probably never done this. I didn't really know. I wondered if she'd had other children after my disappearance. It didn't matter, anyway. Human Isabella was long dead, and only I remained, trapped in her stone cold body. And Maria was going to kill me too. It didn't take long to decide what to do. I had two choices - kill Maria before she could kill me, or just run. The thought of ending the life of the woman who had shaped me into who I was today was surprisingly painful, so I immediately chose the other. There were no bags to be packed, no personal possessions to speak of - except for the jacket. I considered leaving it behind, as a gift of 'good faith', but I decided that there hadn't been good faith between Maria and I for close to a year. 

I left without so much as a backwards glance. 

-

Instinct pulled me back east, back to Phoenix. I climbed atop a skyscraper, in the middle of the night. The red blinking light illuminated my body, and I idly looked at the shadows cast by the raised scars on my arm. What a fucking curse. I cast my eyes to the city and crouched on the edge of the building, following the lights of traffic as it slowly moved through the city. My supernatural sight made everything seem sharper, and it's with a slight pang that I realize I haven't truly been able to appreciate the beauty of the world around me. 

Seven years of constant war took its toll. I suppose it wasn't that long - not to a vampire, who could live for millennia - but it was nearly half of my life. I think I was twenty years old when Maria turned me. For the first time in years I struggled to remember what I could from my human life and I regrettably found that there was little to recall. My parents were separated, that much I knew. I didn't remember where my father lived, but I knew my mother was probably still in the city. She'd... remarried? Perhaps a few years before my change. At least she hadn't been alone. I wondered what her name was. I wondered what was mine. 

It was as if I'd made the decision before I actually became conscious of it. I leapt off the building and landed silently in a darkened alleyway. I took off, too quickly to be caught by human eyes. I only stopped once I reached a public library, and, finding it closed, I entered it through an escape door on the roof. I found a cluster of computers and sat down, the bright artificial light illuminating my face. 

It only took a few seconds of a google search to find what I was looking for. Seven years ago, there had been a string of disappearances, never solved. I clicked the first link to an online newspaper and read the names of the victims. 

Isabella Marie Swan, 20 years old. Left work at 5 pm, her mother reports her as wearing a white long sleeved shirt and black jeans. Please call the number below if you've spotted any of the victims. 

Below the description of me was a photo, fairly blurry - but a sudden memory was dredged out of the depths of my mind and I remembered when it had been taken. It was the summer before my seventeenth birthday and I was visiting my father - in Forks, I realized with a sudden clarity - and we asked a man on the street to snap a photo of us together. The first one in years. 

My mind put vague pieces together - the photo was cropped, so it only showed my face, but my father's hand was resting on my visible shoulder. I looked a bit sullen, but looking closer now I could see a quirk in my lips that indicated I was probably fairly happy. I could almost reconstruct the scene - my father and I had just left a diner after having eaten, and he gruffly pulled out a camera and thrust it at me (For your birthday, he'd said) and I thought I remembered being happy. I'd spotted a man on the street and stalked right up to him. I asked him if he could take a photo of me and my father - and he smiled, identical dimples on either side of his mouth, and said, "Yes, ma'am."

My father blushed when we took the photo, and for a brief second I regret not being able to see the whole picture. I'd rather like to be able to remember what he looked like. My mother, too.

Phoenix was a big city. It would be nearly impossible to find one residence out of the millions. Forks is another story altogether. 

-

I was glad that Forks was up north, rather than east. I altogether preferred to stay out of Maria's warmongering way, lest she detected my scent and decided it was hunting season. Before I left Phoenix, I sated my thirst on a lone wanderer, and then left. 

I cut through Nevada, and fed again in Las Vegas. I'd never visited it before, and I doubt my human self would've enjoyed it much. It was all flashing lights and drunk and high clientele, and I didn't truly want to stick around. I made to turn around when a warm arm suddenly wrapped around my shoulders. I stiffened as I felt my thirst flare, and a man in a bright green tank top and pink sunglasses shouted in my ear. 

"You want to join us for a pub crawwlllll???" he asked, taking a swig from a foul smelling bottle labeled Smirnoff's Vodka. I winced - my ears were sensitive enough as it was, but I was glad for the smell of alcohol on his breath; it distracted me from his scent. 

"I'm afraid not," I declined, removing his arm from around me. He pouted, looked at me and asked, "Your eyes are red!"

"Contacts," I lied smoothly. "Vegas, right?"

"Come with us," he said, "live a little!" His friends cheered behind him, and someone pushed a bottle of beer in my hands. I swallowed, pushed back my thirst, and nodded. 

"Let's do this, then."

-

I certainly felt like I was drunk. I spit out the beer after having curiously tried it, especially since it tasted like what I imagined piss would. But the club they led us to was large and well-ventilated, which helped me relax the tight hold on my thirst a little bit, but not much. The club lights seemed to pulse in time with all the heartbeats, and I felt venom coat my tongue as I listened to the rush of blood around me. 

"Not here," I murmured to myself as I kept my body focused on moving in time with the music, which was some sort of Latin tune. The man in the green shirt bumped into me and apologized loudly, before snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him. 

Amused, I asked him, "What are you doing?"

Drunkenly, he leaned in closer to me - I watched as my scent dazzled him briefly and couldn't help the smirk that crossed my face - and he said, "I think you're so beautiful," he confessed, "and I want to take you back to my hotel room."

First came a wave of repulsion - and then intrigue. I knew that Maria had done it before - slept with human men. I leaned in closer and took a tentative whiff of him. My throat burned, but I could maybe handle it. I'd fed earlier in the day, anyway.

I'd never been the one to indulge in hedonistic impulses, I thought as I regarded the boy - Mike? - but perhaps I could, as he said, live a little. 

A voice in my head urged me to try. What was there to lose? My virginity? Hardly mattered, anyway. I couldn't get pregnant or diseased, and I doubted I'd get many opportunities to indulge in my future. A smirk crossed my face and I nodded. 

-

I shouldn't have. His sloppy kisses weren't necessarily unpleasant, and I did enjoy the way his warm hands trailed down the sides of my body. When he commented on my temperature, I shrugged, flipped him over so that I was on top, and mentioned something about poor circulation. He grinned a boy's grin and told me he'd warm me up right away. 

The sex itself was not great but it wasn't terrible. But Mike knew which places to touch and know what pressure to exert, and it was enough that an hour later I was still on top of him, grinding my hips down on his lap and cherishing the way his heat felt through my body. Mike sat up and kissed me, and I felt him coming. At the same time, his angle in me changed slightly and hit where I wanted it to hit the most and I soon followed him. I closed my eyes and grabbed his shoulders, gripping tightly. Through the waves of orgasm I didn't hear him cry out in pain - I just rode the pleasure to where it took me, and without even thinking, I sunk my teeth in his neck as I writhed on his lap. 

When I finished my hands relaxed and my teeth unclenched and Mike fell back on the bed with his eyes wide open and his mouth stuck in a scream. It took me a second to register - pleasurable tremors still ran through my body, but when I understood what I had done I leapt up as if I'd been burned. His body, which had been warm only a few seconds prior, was already cooling rapidly without blood in its veins. 

A weight fell on my shoulders and I slumped by the bed, a bit uncertain of what I'd done. I should've been horrified. Instead, the only emotion I felt was disappointment - not that I'd killed him, but that I wasn't strong enough to resist the call of his blood. 

I dressed myself and Mike as well, and listened quietly to different types of music ringing from the various hotspots around. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not feeling very sorry. 

Before I left Vegas, I made sure to bury Mike somewhere where no one would find him. 

-

I thankfully made it to Forks without much else happening. I'd hunted along the way - I hadn't needed it much but I didn't want to risk it, not so close after having lost control with Mike. 

I couldn't remember where my father lived, but I did know he worked at the police station. So I crept there, undisturbed and thankful for the dreary northern weather. 

There he was. There were dark bags under his equally dark eyes, and a mustache that was dotted with white hairs. A sign informed everyone that this was Chief Swan. I watched him work quietly for an hour or so and tried to dredge up any shred of emotion. 

Nothing. Not after Mike, and not now, seeing my father. I felt curiously empty of any overwhelming feelings and I wasn't sure what to make of it. Perhaps this was a vampire's curse. Or perhaps it was simply mine, as a way to atone for the terrible crimes I'd committed over the years. 

I watched as a woman entered his office with swollen cheeks, and eyes red from crying. She inquired after her fiancee, Mike. My father shook his head tiredly and told her Vegas police hadn't found anything. 

Still nothing. 

-

After that, I decided to leave Forks. There was no point in staying in such a dreary little town since I couldn't even hunt without causing a sizable dent in the human population. 

I drifted for a while. I didn't have much of a direction, really. For a few years I'd even had the luxury of forgetting about Maria, but the jacket I constantly wore was also a grim reminder of the atrocities I'd committed for her sake. I avoided the south as much as I could, but I did try to keep up with the news. There'd been a spike of disappearances around Houston, and I knew it was likely Maria's thought. I idly wondered if she'd found someone to replace me. Eyeing the jacket I was wearing, I knew she probably had. After all, I wasn't the first - and I probably wouldn't be the last. 

Time passes oddly when you have a lot of it. Days melt into months, which turn into years. The last time I checked a newspaper, it was 2021. I'd been a vampire for thirteen years, now. 

Eventually I grew tired of the nomadic lifestyle I was living. It only took breaking into a couple of banks to do what I wanted to - get myself a nice, isolated home, preferably somewhere by a lake, where I could ideally enjoy my eternal solitude. I would need to visit nearby cities to hunt, of course - but only once a week, and then I could gladly return to being by myself. 

It wasn't much, but it was a start. The men I'd hired to build my small cabin didn't ask too many questions when they saw me whip out my wad of stolen cash, and worked quickly and quietly. I don't think they spoke much English, but to be fair I didn't make much conversation with them. I had them finish the pier into the lake first, so that I could begin staring out into the depths of the water. I began wondering if vampires could drown - sure, we could hold our breath for a long time, but what would happen if we inhaled water? Turns out, nothing much. I just coughed it back up again and was left with the disgusting taste of salt in the back of my throat which did nothing but egg my thirst on. 

The workers finished their job quickly, and not before long they were packing up their tools into the old pickup truck. I raised a hand in goodbye. I don't think they saw me. I sighed heavily and closed my eyes, laying down on the pier, one of my feet swinging back and forth, occasionally breaking the surface of the water. 

Was this to be my existence forever?

-

It took me a while to get out of my self-induced funk. I'd mostly just stayed on my pier, looking at the stars and at the clouds and at the stars again, until the thirst called me to stand up and find dinner. The act of hunting became a chore and I ached for the possibility of relief. 

I'd quickly realized that the reason for my lack of emotions was probably dissociation from the beginning of Maria's war. I recalled with perfect clarity that I'd contained anything that could've possibly distracted me from the fighting tightly behind my mental shield. With that realization came the question: did I want to feel again? I wasn't sure, so for the time being I left it as it was. 

Knowing that I wasn't dead inside did help, however. Simply being aware that my emotions were locked behind a door made me realize that I wasn't quite ready to twist the key and let them loose. 

I slowly began wondering - what do vampires do to entertain themselves in face of an empty eternity? Surely, some spent it with their mate. I'd gotten so used to being alone, though, that the thought of being next to someone made me anxious. I wasn't sure I could ever do it. Some humans wished for immortality - what would they do with it? 

Traveling was one possibility. I debated methods of getting around - I could easily make my way around this continent. The idea did appeal to me, but I'd never been an explorer, not even while human. I'd rarely ventured out of Phoenix and when I did I almost always went to Forks. The past thirteen years held the bulk of my traveling, and I was already exhausted of the constant movement. I was looking for peace. The little piece of heaven next to the lake I'd made for myself was close but I was getting restless. An eternity alone here would be hell. I needed to do something productive with my life, or I would have gone insane. 

I wondered what my human self wanted to do before she was turned. She enjoyed reading, I think. During my next feeding outing I visited a bookstore and spent a few hours leisurely strolling through the aisles, picking out books. The stolen money would last me a long time, so it might as well be put to good use. I picked out my old favorites, Austen and Shakespeare, and ventured out and bought some Game of Thrones at the insistence of the young shopkeeper, who swore that it was one of the best books she'd read. 

I brought them to my pier, and while I could have read them quickly, I tried pacing myself. I had all of eternity, after all. The time spent reading at a human pace was refreshing, but it still wasn't before long before I finished all I bought. When I stepped into the cabin to put them all away, I realized I hadn't even decorated. It gave me something else to do, and so I went to the nearest IKEA and got myself some cheap, rustic looking furniture. It was only after I bought it all that I realized I couldn't realistically carry everything back to the cabin, so I grudgingly paid them to do it for me. 

Next, I bought a truck. It was an old thing, rusty and red and it only set me back a couple thousand. The seller was kind enough to drive it up to Seattle, which I could run to in a few hours. 

When I drove it to the cabin, we hit a rough patch in the road and the engine sputtered a few times before dying. I paused, annoyed, and tried starting it up again. No such luck, so I hopped out of the truck to ensure no one was around, before lifting it up and taking off in a run. The owner did say that the engine needed work, so I got started on learning how to fix up cars. It took up a surprising amount of time to learn the ins and outs of it, but I managed to fix the truck up as well as installed a new radio in it. I figured it had been long enough since I'd listened to music, so I started up the radio as I was working on the underside of the vehicle. 

The truck wasn't very fast, but I wasn't in a hurry to get anywhere anyway. I started feeling a semblance of normality again, and with no small amount of hesitation, I slowly relaxed my mental shield, preparing for an onslaught of emotions. 

It wasn't an onslaught, but it took time. They slowly trickled out, a decade of frustration and love and hate, most directed at Maria. I dutifully worked through each and every one of them, feeling cleaner every time. Freer. 

I began wondering what I could do to earn money. I was certain that simply holding down a human job wouldn't be enough - and I wouldn't want to risk it, anyway. I was tired of the bloodshed. I didn't want to take more lives than I had to. I thought of Mike with a pang of pain in my chest, then got into my car and drove. 

I stopped at the first dry cleaning place I could find. I took of the jacket - which I'd grown very attached to, after years of constant wear, and walked inside. The woman looked at the jacket and frowned, and asked me with a thick Canadian accent - "When was the last time you washed this?"

I shrugged. "It's a family heirloom. I'd be glad to pay you extra if it means you'll take care not to rip it." 

The woman looked curiously at it and after a few seconds she nodded. "Come back in a week and it'll be clean for you."

It was on my way back to the cabin that I heard, over the roar of the engine, the clapping of hooves. A moose ran into the road and then into the other side of the forest, and I rolled my truck to a stop. I heard the animal's heartbeat and I smelt its blood. Curiously, I pondered: would it be possible to survive on a diet of animal blood. I slowly stepped out of the truck and considered my options. I wasn't too thirsty, just enough that my crimson eyes had diluted to a muddy red. I sniffed for the moose - it had just passed, and its scent was still strong. I took off after it, my mind whirling at the possibility. 

If it was doable, then there might be a chance for me yet. I let myself be guided by my senses; chasing down the moose was easy, but it was also fun. Unlike humans, most of the animal kingdom listened to their instincts, and the moose had taken off into a gallop as I approached. I took my time playing hide and seek - I was the seeker, of course. Before long, though, I'd gotten bored, so I pounced on the animal and snapped its neck, before lowering my teeth to its throat. 

My first thought was that the blood wasn't too bad. It wasn't as flavorful, nor as filling, but it sated my thirst enough that it made me realize that I could probably live off animals. 

Feeling myself smile was a strange sensation. I hadn't done it in a while, and now that I knew I had reason to, I didn't really want to stop. 

-

The jacket smelled much better after the week it spent at the dry cleaner's. I put it on as soon as I got out of the shop, its weight comfortable around my shoulders. I rolled up the sleeves to my elbows, happy that the weather was cold enough that I wouldn't be getting any strange looks for wearing the thick coat. I certainly didn't need shielding from the cold, but having the jacket - wiped clean of the smell of blood, death, and most importantly, Maria - was a relief. 

I made my way back to the cabin to give it a good clean, locked the door - not that any intruder would let that stop them, but it was a comforting habit nonetheless - got in my truck, and went. 

-

I didn't know where I was going, but something told me there would be something to do along the way. I just drove, stopping only to fill up on gas and to feed on the wildlife. When I looked at myself in the rear view mirror, I noticed that my eyes had begun to take an orange-amber color, and I wondered if it was a result of my diet. 

I felt good, better than I had in years. For the first time in ages, I was looking forward to my future. 

My fuel light switched on somewhere in Washington, and, thankful it was nighttime, I pulled over into a gas station. I walked up to the cashier, paid for the gas as well as a tree-shaped car freshener, and made to leave to my truck, when another car pulled into the station. I didn't give it much thought until I realized that the shopkeeper's heartbeat was the only one I could hear. 

The door opened and out stepped a tall, well dressed man with a mop of blonde hair and twin dimples on each side of his mouth. 

He noticed me right away. 

We stayed like that for a minute, just staring at each other. He first looked at the air freshener clutched in my hand, made his way up - stopped at the scars visible on my forearm, and then zeroed in on the jacket. I eyed him carefully, suspiciously - his eyes were golden, like mine. Another animal drinker?

He smirked, and walked up to me, bringing two fingers to his forehead into a salute. 

"The name's Jasper Whitlock, ma'am, and you seem to be wearing my jacket."

The southern drawl took me by surprise, as well the reaction I had to it. It was as if my universe had suddenly begun circling around this mister Whitlock and his roguish smile. 

It definitely wouldn't do to not respond. 

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Whitlock," I said. "I'd return it but I've unfortunately grown very attached to it."

It was clear he had the same reaction to my voice that I had to his. His smirk faltered, and his eyes widened minutely. It didn't take long for him to reply. 

"Well then perhaps I'd be able to persuade you to take it off."

"Please," I sniffed, his scent burning my insides in the strangest of ways, and I fixed him with my eyes, "you'll have to take me out to dinner first."

He smirked again, and offered me his arm.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you've enjoyed, and I'd appreciate any feedback.


End file.
